I Guess It's All Alright
by chuteney
Summary: I got nothing left inside of my chest, but it's all alright. Nick & Jess of course, set right after s5 finale.
1. Chapter 1

**hey! I haven't given up on my schmess friendship story, but this little guy popped up in my mind and i couldn't get rid of it. this was intended to be a oneshot, but it got a little long so I split it in two. we're only a month into the hiatus and I'm already dying without ness, so if you are too I hope you enjoy this** 😊😘

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It's the day after Schmidt and Cece got married. Or rather, it's later that morning, since they actually said their vows at like three AM, and Jess is alone in the loft. The hardwood floor is still covered in rose petals, and the delicate arch where her best friend stood and became Mrs. Schmidt is in the dining room behind her. Everyone else is gone; Winston had mysteriously left sometime in the night, the newlyweds departed for their honeymoon early in the morning, most likely to some exotic beach location (Schmidt hadn't told anyone where he was whisking Cece away to, but Jess had caught him looking up "where to buy a speedo" on his computer one afternoon, so she just assumed), and Nick and Reagan left for the airport just a few hours ago. Jess leans comfortably on the cushions behind her and sighs, pressing "play" on the DVD remote and settling in for a long day of crying alone. She hadn't been strong enough to drag the couch back out of Nick's room by herself, but she managed to push the coffee table across the living room floor and grabbed all the pillows she could find to lean against it. She thanked her lucky stars that both she and Schmidt were obsessed with decorative pillows, so that she was able to make quite a cozy nest for herself.

Rubbing her eyes as _Dirty Dancing_ begins to play on the TV in front of her, Jess lets her mind wander off to how she has gotten here. Or rather, _back_ here. Back here, in love with her roommate across the hall and utterly unable to do anything about it. She can't stop thinking about how happy Nick had been when Reagan walked through that front door twenty feet away from where she's sitting now. Internally groaning, she shuffles her body and sinks down a little more into the cushions beneath her; her hipbone hits the floor and she almost thinks about going into Nick's room to grab a few more pillows, but she isn't sure if she can deal with the scent of him right now, so she resigns herself to feeling just a little uncomfortable. _Dirty Dancing_ isn't helping; this is her breakup movie after all, not her "I'm still in love with my ex-boyfriend" movie. She sighs loudly and pauses the DVD, for the first time since she woke up that morning thankful that no one else is home to see how pathetic she is. She rises from her pillow fort on the floor and trudges into the kitchen to grab a bottle of pink wine, but when she opens the fridge, her mind dances with the thought of taking one of Nick's Heislers instead. He's on his way to New Orleans with his perfect girlfriend and she's supposed to be forgetting about him, not drinking his beers. Rolling her eyes at herself, _stop over-thinking,_ Jess wraps her hand around a bottle and shuts the fridge, turning toward the living room. Before she can walk around the kitchen island, she hears the front door open and a wide smile is brought to her lips with the thought that Winston is finally home and she wouldn't have to be alone with her thoughts anymore.

"Hey, I'm so glad you're- Nick!" The upbeat attitude Jess had just a moment ago is violently ripped from her. With sweat running down his brow, his eyes find hers, the muscles in his arm bulging with the weight of his duffel bag momentarily distracting her. "What are you doing here?" And, more importantly, _where the hell is Winston?_ She needs that sexual tension-sucking cat daddy! Jess needs something to do besides stare at Nick, so she walks the long way around back to her cave in the pillows on the floor.

"I live here, weirdo." She just rolls her eyes, looking at him pointedly, and he makes a face like he's about to be sick. "Blech sorry, that was terrible. There weren't any open seats on Reagan's flight, so I can't fly out until Tuesday. Cool with you if I just leave my bags right here so I don't have to repack 'em?" he asks, already dropping his duffel by the front door.

"No problem, man," she replied awkwardly, clearing her throat. "So, Tuesday. That's… two days away."

"Yeah, so? What, you're not happy to spend a little more time with me?" He has a light tone in his voice as he walks over to join her, sitting cross-legged on the floor, but when she doesn't laugh back with him, the turtle-face makes an appearance. "What's up, Jess?

Shaking her head, she tries to appear light and casual. "It's- It's nothing. When do you leave on Tuesday?"

"First thing in the morning."

"Which for you is like, what, noon?"

"Very funny," he smirks, and leans his back against the coffee table, his arm brushing lightly with hers. The electricity that shoots through her from the contact immediately makes her heart flutter and her stomach want to throw up. She's going to have to get ahold of herself; but then again, she wasn't expecting to see him for _three months._ By then she assumed she'd have a handle on things; him walking through that door had thrown her completely out of whack. "Alright kid, what're we watching?" He picks up the remote and presses play, and she winces as realization passes over his features. He turns toward her suddenly, his eyes narrowed and his lips parted with concern. "Jess, what's going on? What's wrong?" God, he knows her so well.

"Nothing. I just… like this movie, okay?" She is a terrible liar. Worse than ol' sweatback over here by a mile. She rolls her eyes to herself and feels a flush of embarrassment rise into her cheeks. "What? I _always_ have to be on the verge of depression to watch Patrick Swayze dancing?"

"I mean, yeah!" he shrugs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and okay, to be fair, it kind of is. She painfully avoids his gaze, clutching her fingers tighter around the beer bottle warming in her hand. "Oh, I'm an idiot. This is about Sam, right? You guys just broke up."

Jess closes her eyes and lets her head fall back against the coffee table behind them. "Yep, that's it."

"Well don't worry girl, I got ya covered," he says with a nod as his lips curve into a smile, and he stands up and pads off to the kitchen.

"Thanks," she murmurs, unsure if he could hear her. She absentmindedly reaches for her phone, just to have something to do other than watching Johnny and Baby falling in love on the TV screen, and sees that she has two new texts from Cece. The Mr. and Mrs. must have arrived to their super-secret destination by now, and Jess has been waiting all afternoon to hear about it. What she reads in Cece's message, however, is unexpected.

"WINSTON IS HERE. on our HONEYMOON. i think schmidt is gonna kill him," it said, and then:

"i might help him do it," followed by a double syringe.

Before she could respond to Cece her phone dinged again with another new text, this time from Winston. He sent her a selfie, and Jess's eyes are immediately drawn to Schmidt and Cece glowering in the background. "HONEYMOON PRAAAAANKKKKK!" the message said, with several laughing cat emojis. "I'll be back in a couple days. Love ya, feed Furgy for me!"

"What are you laughing at?" Nick asks, suddenly reappearing with a carton of Ben Jerry's and two spoons in one hand, and the remaining 6-pack of Heislers in the other.

"Oh nothing," she bites back a smile as he sits down beside her, typing out a reply to her friends before setting her phone on the coffee table and turning to face him. "Winston tagged along on Schmidt and Cece's honeymoon."

Nick almost spit out the sip of beer he had just taken. "He _what?_ "

"He called it a 'honeymoon prank'," she replied, showing him the picture Winston sent.

"Yeesh," Nick laughs. "Well, I guess we'll have to put out an ad for a new roommate, because Schmidt is definitely gonna kill him. You'll take care of that while I'm gone, yeah?"

"I uh, yeah." She nervously clears her throat again, and silently commands her voice to sound stronger. "Don't trust Schmidt to do that, huh?"

"Let's just say that his track record for Craigslist ads is not the best," he replies with a smirk. "Although his last ad brought us you, so maybe I can forgive him."

Jess allows herself to smile back at him before dropping her gaze to her fingers twisting in her lap. "So, three months in New Orleans, huh? Are you… nervous?"

A twinkle appears in his eye at that, and he grins before joking with her. "Should I be?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly, and his smile falters. "I just mean, it's kind of a big step, moving in together."

"Yeah, I guess. But, we already lived together so it shouldn't be that big of a deal." Nick's brows knit together and she can tell he's starting to overthink, which is maybe... good? If he hasn't really thought about it until now, maybe he'll realize he's making a mistake. Jess isn't being completely selfish in hoping this either, she really is worried about him. Sure, he's known Reagan for a while now but they've only been dating for thirty minutes, and he's going to move across the country for her? Jess is about to tell him this, when he shakes his head and interrupts her thoughts. "Besides, if things don't work out I can always come back home." _Home,_ he says.

A wave of emotion rushes through her and she drops her eyes, suddenly timid; she whispers, "Will you?" and she's afraid to hear the answer.

"Yeah…" he trails off and they're silent for awhile; she wants to look at the expression on his face, but she can't. "What is this, Jess? Do you think I'm making a mistake or something?"

"Of course not," she mutters before finding her voice. "This is what you want, so I think it's really great."

He stares at her for a while like he doesn't believe her (he shouldn't), but she finally looks back at him and plasters a smile on her face, and his shoulders drop in relief. "Okay, good. Because your opinion means a lot to me."

She could do nothing but nod in return, so she does, and snuggles down into the pillows again. He turns toward the TV, and they watch the rest of the movie together in silence. Jess couldn't remember a single thing about the film, but she definitely paid attention to the way his head would roll towards her whenever he laughed, and how the back of his knuckles brushed against hers during "The Time of My Life."

After _Dirty Dancing,_ they watch two more movies that Jess doesn't focus on. The credits eventually end (they watch every single name roll by), and Nick stands to stretch; when he raises his arms above his head, his shirt lifts a little, revealing the skin underneath and she has to look away. "Here, come on," he says, holding his hand out to her. She simply stares at it, before looking back up at him. He laughs a little and moves his hand closer to hers. "Come to the bar, have a drink with me."

"Nick… No," she sighs, laying her whole body on the ground for emphasis. "It has been a crazy long couple of days, and I am so exhausted, and-"

"Come on!" He jogs to the door to grab her jacket, even though it's June in LA and they both know she doesn't need it, and he holds it out to her as a last incentive. "You and Sam broke up two days ago; we did your breakup routine, now let's give mine a shot."

"Drinking to forget?"

"There it is. Let's go!"

Jess knows she should say no; getting wildly drunk alone with Nick is a monumentally stupid idea (she could only imagine what Cece would say), but he's looking at her with such care and sincerity that her heart won't let her refuse. _It's just one night._ She grabs his hand and lets him lead her out of the loft and into the streets below.

Jess does get wildly drunk, but for some reason, she's able to keep herself from doing anything stupid, even though she thought about it a lot. _Cece would be so proud,_ she thinks with a smile.

"What?" Nick laughs beside her, and she's vaguely reminded of his arm holding her up as they walk toward the elevator.

Oh, she said that out loud. Well oops, maybe she did say something stupid, she just didn't realize it. All this worrying is making her brain go fuzzy so she stops thinking altogether and closes her eyes with a sigh.

"Alright, you're not making it back to the loft like this," he says, and pulls her shaky frame into his arms. Her mind instantly flashes back to three years ago, when Nick picked her up exactly the same way he does just now and walked her into his bedroom, releasing months of sexual tension in one incredible night. She wants to escape the memory and moans, shifting in his arms, but he tightens his grip and turns his face toward hers. "It's okay, Jess," he laughs, mistaking the reason for her restlessness. "I like taking care of you." With that she softens, melting into him and resting her head on his shoulder. He carries her into her room and lays her down on the bed, and she pretends not to notice the way he gently brushes the hair out of her face and how his voice cracks when he whispers, "Goodnight, Jess" before he leaves her all alone.

...

The alarm clock on her nightstand is beeping way too loudly, and the sun is blaring through her curtain-less windows. She must have forgotten to close them last night. Jess rolls over and blindly slaps the table until she finally hits the clock, shutting it up. Groaning, she cracks open one eye and glances around her bedroom. Everything is blurry, _everything,_ and she can't remember anything. What's her name, where the hell is she, _what is going on?_ As the details from her life and last night piece themselves together in her broken hangover brain, she slowly rises from her bed and staggers into the closet. Grabbing the first top and bottom she can find, not even bothering to check if they match, she pulls them on and heads for the bathroom. It's going to take a lot of work to make her look presentable today.

Nearly an hour later, you _totally_ can't tell that her eyes are bloodshot and her breath smells like tequila (or so she tells herself), so she gives up and goes into the kitchen. Tea or coffee, tea or coffee? Her brain hurts too much trying to decide, and she makes both. Jess knows she's running late; the school year ended last week, but she's supposed to go have a "recap of the year" meeting with her boss before Genevieve leaves on vacation. She's aware of Nick sleeping in his room down the hall… Unless, she just dreamed him coming home? Who knows what the heck happened yesterday. A loud snore from behind his door shakes this thought from her head, and she writes a note to him before she grabs her purse and walks out of the loft.

The meeting goes as well as possible under the circumstances, Jess thinks. Genevieve immediately picks up on Jess's slightly inebriated state, but says that she's been stoned since the school year ended, so she doesn't care. Jess keeps her sunglasses on through the meeting and drinks liberally from the coffee-tea hybrid in her mug, but they actually manage to have a productive conversation about some changes they want to make in the year to come. Jess also brings up a thought she had for a summer learning camp, and her boss thinks it's great and gives her the names of some teachers who might be interested in helping. The morning drags on a little, but she's pleased with how it turns out. Saying goodbye to Genevieve, "See you in September!", Jess walks out to her car and is surprised to see Nick sitting on the hood. Her heart jumps out of her chest and she doesn't try to contain it.

"Hey," she says, walking over to him. He's also wearing sunglasses even though it's not very bright out, so maybe he's a little hungover too, but he looks a lot more put together than she does. "What are you doing here?"

Nick's face breaks into a wide smile, and he holds up the takeout bag in his hand as an explanation. When she doesn't react, he says, "I didn't know you had to work this morning or I never would have let you get as drunk as I did. I felt bad, so… Thought I'd treat ya to lunch. This is the best hangover food on the east coast."

"We're on the west coast, but thank you," she takes a taco from the bag and sits beside him on top of her car. He laughs, low and easily, and unwraps a burrito for himself. They spend the rest of the afternoon there together, sitting cross-legged on her hood facing each other. It's so easy to talk with him like this, it almost feels like it did before they ever dated and their friendship became complicated. For those few hours, she lets herself forget about her feelings and his current relationship status, and they tease each other and make fun of Schmidt. It's nice, she missed this. It hasn't been this way between them for a long time.

After what simultaneously feels like only seconds and yet years have gone by, Nick says they should go back home. The bag of takeout is long gone, and Jess's thighs have been burning on the hot metal of her car for a while now, but she doesn't want to leave this moment. She wishes she could stay here with him like this, forever, but they can't and she gets in the passenger seat, passing Nick the keys.

He suggests going out again that night, but she folds her arms over her body and shyly asks if they can just stay in. He pauses for a minute, before a small grin breaks on his face and he says, "Okay." There's a moment where they're both staring at each other, standing only a few feet apart, but it passes and he rubs his neck with a sigh. "Probably a good idea, it only took you three glasses to get wasted last night."

"Hey!" she yells, and hits him with a pillow. "I can hold my liquor, Miller."

"Yeah? Prove it." The last time he said that to her, she kissed him; she briefly wonders if he remembers. He licks his lips and locks eyes with her, and she feels it, that pull that used to be so strong between them and hasn't ever really gone away. She takes a step toward him, but then gets nervous and breaks his gaze, walking backwards until she hits the wall behind her.

"Um," she chokes out, "I think we drank all your beers last night."

Nick seems to have recovered from their "moment" or whatever, and exhales in laughter. "Do you really think I only have one six-pack of beer in the loft at any given time?"

"Well, I did, but I now see that I was wrong." He walks into his room and comes back with some Heislers and a couple of suspicious-looking bottles, and then grabs her pink wine from the fridge in the kitchen. "Pink wine _and_ all this? If I didn't know any better Mr. Miller, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk."

"Hey, you're the one who said you could hold your liquor. I'm just helping ya complete the challenge." She glares at him, grabbing the pink wine and drinking it straight from the bottle. His eyes grow wide, a smile lighting up his face while he laughs at her. A few hours go by while they play made-up drinking games and watch bad infomercials on the TV. At some point they tipsily wander into the kitchen and decide to make cupcakes, and when he smears a bit of frosting on her cheek, his finger runs across her lips momentarily and she wants the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

The sun has gone down, and only a lamp in the corner of the room illuminates the couch they're sitting on, closer together than they should be. Jess isn't drunk (she doesn't want to forget tonight), and Nick seems to be taking it easy with the alcohol too. She doesn't know why and she doesn't ask, but after a while he's staring at her again and she thinks he doesn't want to forget tonight, either. Whatever happens. His eyes flicker to her lips and her cheeks grow warm under his gaze, and she _feels it._ If she's going to do something, talk to him or... otherwise, it has to be tonight; he's leaving tomorrow, and this is her last chance. But when she opens her mouth to tell him everything, he bites his lip and she loses her nerve. "Uh, bathroom," she chokes out, and runs down the hall.

Jess splashes water over her face and furiously rubs at her cheeks. What is she thinking, she's not this person. She doesn't try to seduce someone else's boyfriend. _He was your boyfriend first,_ a tiny voice whispers in her ear, and she shakes her head to get rid of it. Although… the first time they kissed, _she_ was dating someone else. Nick had thrown caution to the wind and gone after what he wanted then, so why can't she do that now? Even though it's technically fair, she tells herself, she's still not brave enough or careless enough to make a move, but she _can_ put herself out there… Right?

With their first kiss in mind, she walks into her bedroom to change into "pajamas." She finds her soft pink robe that he once called catnip, and slips it on over a tiny pair of shorts and an invisible shirt. She even puts on that stupid purple bra, even though he won't see it ( _Or will he,_ that voice whispers again, and she smirks at herself in the mirror). Trying to appear casual, she struts back into the living room, and she doesn't miss the way his eyes drag up her legs as she lies down on the couch beside him. "What should we do now?"

He shrugs, and turns his head back to the TV. If he notices what she's doing, he doesn't show it. But when he goes into his bedroom to change, he comes back out wearing the same green shirt he wore _that night,_ and she loses all self-control. (To be fair, it was pretty much gone from the second he walked back through the door yesterday.) She rises from the couch before the angel on her shoulder can say anything and meets him in the hallway; he laughs at her quietly and then furrows his brow, obviously confused but she doesn't care. "Jessica," he growls, and she's gone.

The last thing she sees before pressing her lips to his are his deep, intense brown eyes, and she's pretty sure they'll be burned in her memory like that forever. Her lips crash onto his, and it takes only a second before he's kissing her back; his arms wrap around her like they always did, and one of her hands runs across his chest while the other tugs at the short hairs on the back of his head. It feels familiar and exciting, and they try to pull each other even closer for what feels like forever before she has to break apart for air. As soon as she does, her mind catches up with her and reminds her of the truth she tried to push away before: _He has a girlfriend. He has a girlfriend he's crazy about and what the hell have you done._

"Oh my God," she whimpers, bringing her hand to her mouth and pinching her eyes shut. She can still feel the heat, the electricity that ran through her nerves when her lips met his. She slowly opens her eyes to find Nick staring at her; his hair a little disheveled and his t-shirt still bunched up from where she clawed at it.

"You're drunk," he mutters, rubbing his hand awkwardly behind his neck.

"I'm so sorry. Oh my God, I'm so sorry Nick. I didn't… I ruined everything. Oh God. Oh, _God._ "

"Jess, it's okay. You didn't ruin anything. You're _drunk,_ " he repeats, and maybe she's crazy, but it almost sounds like he's telling it to himself. "That was just-"

"Nick, I really-"

"A mistake." His words cut through her rambling and make her heart shatter like he has literally reached into her chest and crushed it with his bare hands. In this moment, she can no longer speak; her mouth hangs open while her eyes search his for any hint that he doesn't mean it, but she sees nothing. He narrows his eyes at her, his lips purse in confusion and she wants to kiss them again. "I mean, right? You didn't mean to kiss me, you're just drunk and hurting over Sam. And I'm _finally_ with Reagan now. It didn't mean anything." He's "finally" with Reagan, and she _finally_ gets it: it's over between them, there's nothing still there, he's through with her. She thinks that she should feel like crying, but all that's inside her is anger; at herself, at Reagan, but mostly at Nick. She has no right to be mad at him, but she can't help it. "Right?" he asks again, and her fists clench up by her side.

"Yeah, no, you're right. I'm really broken up about the whole _Sam_ thing." Her voice sounds like anything but her own, it's laced with rage and a part of her relishes in it. "I should… I gotta go to bed. I have a meeting in the morning with some teachers from school. Do you need a ride to the airport tomorrow?"

"No, I called a cab, but Jess-"

"Great." Her anger fades, and she just feels shattered. She stomps off to her room and shuts the door loudly, cringing to herself about how childish she's being, but she won't stay out there and break down in front of him. She can't. She sighs and leans against the door, and can hear him stomping around in their kitchen. She wants to go back out and do… something. Apologize for acting weird, laugh off the kiss like it really didn't matter, and talk all night while eating the cupcakes she made him and binge-watching _The Walking Dead._ Or maybe tell him that the kiss did mean something, at least to her, and ask him to stay. Or… kiss him again. Just, _anything._ She doesn't want him to leave like this; their last night together to be spent in their own rooms, separated by five feet of hallway and miles of miscommunication. He slams his hands down on the counter and she can hear his footsteps getting nearer, her pulse quickening and her breath catching when she sees his shadow outside her door. She listens to him muttering, almost thinks she hears him put his hands on the wooden frame between them, and is about to turn around and open the door when his bedroom door slams shut and all that remains is silence. Jess puts her head in her hands and slides to the floor, pulling her knees in tightly to her chest, and cries herself to sleep.

...

The sunlight streams in through her curtain-less windows again, and Jess blinks hard at the brightness before taking in her surroundings. She is in her bedroom but not on her bed, instead lying on the floor in front of her doorway. She sits up quickly, ignoring a head rush and rubs at her sore muscles from the crick in her neck.

 _Oh God._ The night before comes flooding back through her senses, catching her off guard and making it hard for her to breathe. _She kissed him._ She presses her palms to her forehead, trying to push away the memories like a bad hangover. _He kissed her back._ But it isn't a hangover; she wasn't drunk last night, she knew what she was doing, and she will undoubtedly remember it for the rest of her life. _He said it was a mistake._ All of a sudden, she became too aware of her surroundings; the hallway light flooding in through the crack at the bottom of her door, the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom, a cell phone buzzing in some distant room. The carpet scratched at her bare thighs, and she looks down to find that she is still only wearing the pink robe she put on last night. Jess rolls her eyes at _past Jess_ and jumps off the floor to change into something else, _anything else,_ settling on the sky blue pajama set sitting on the nearest shelf in her closet. The small, vintage-style alarm clock on her nightstand ticks ominously like the metronome to her soundtrack of bad decisions, and when she dares to glance at it, her stomach leaps into her throat. Nick's flight leaves in less than three hours, if he wants to make it through security, he needs to leave, like, 30 minutes ago. She risks a moment to let herself think that he isn't actually leaving; that he too felt something in their kiss last night and decided to stay behind, for her, but she's pulled from her daydream by the sound of a car honking on the street below. Racing to the window, Jess sees a yellow cab parked in front of their building, hears the water in the bathroom turn off, and listens as Nick pads down the hallway to his room. Scratch that- to her room. She sees his feet stop by her door, hears his all-too-familiar sigh, and tears flood her eyes before she can stop them. _He's leaving._

"Jess?" She froze. His voice is low, timid, and he raps his knuckles against her door lightly. "Hey, I know you're in there." She hears a soft thud and imagines him putting his hands in his pockets and leaning his head against her door.

"My cab's here, I- I gotta go. Jess?" Fresh tears spring to her eyes; she hastily brushes them away and tries to walk toward the door, but her feet won't move. She wants to go to him, she wants to make up for last night, she wants to say goodbye. She wants to tell him everything, but _her feet won't move._ She tries, she pleads, she even pushes against the wall behind her to launch herself forward, but nothing works. She starts to cry again before he speaks, his voice breaking through the clouds in her mind. "Okay, well… goodbye. I'll miss ya, kid."

His shadow remains outside her door for a moment longer, then suddenly it lets out a deep sigh and leaves, the sound of Nick's footsteps walking across the loft. She hears him pick up his bags by the front door, then a click as it shuts, and she breaks.

Her feet finally move; she's sobbing and she's sure her mascara from last night is all over her face, but she doesn't care as she pushes her beat-up flats onto her feet and runs out the door after him. She gets to the elevator but he's already gone down it; too impatient to wait for it to climb back up, she rushes to the stairs and almost trips down them a few times but never slows her pace until she reaches the lobby. Shoving open the front door of their building, she blinks into the too-bright sunlight and there he is. She's not too late, _he's still here._ He has one foot in the cab, but she calls his name and his head snaps up in surprise.

"Jess," he whispers, his voice cracks a little and it's the most beautiful sound she's ever heard. She's vaguely aware that she's still in her pajamas, but the thought is pushed from her mind when he smiles and walks toward her, pulling her tightly against him. It's the most physically intimate moment they've shared since they broke up, _besides the kiss;_ they have always been so careful not to touch each other like this in the past two years, but she forgets about the ramifications and collapses into him. She buries her head in his neck and he threads his fingers through her hair, his warm breath tickles her ear as he chuckles a little.

"I'm _really_ gonna miss you," she mutters and pulls him even closer, fresh tears staining his shirt but he doesn't seem to care. They stay locked in their embrace for a while longer; she finally feels like she can breathe again, having him so close, but with her head pressed against his chest she can tell that his breathing is more labored, uneven. The cab driver honks impatiently, causing them to jump apart and her world suddenly feels a shade darker. He puts his hand behind his head and she crosses her arms, feeling very small and insecure. "Have a safe trip. Nick, I'm…" she trails off, drawing in a shaky breath and finally looking into his eyes. "I'm so proud of you."

"You are?"

"Yeah, of course." She smiles at him and hopes he doesn't notice the waver in her voice. "You're going after what you want. I think that's amazing, Miller. I just… I want you to be happy, you _deserve_ to be happy." _Even if it's not with me,_ she thinks bitterly, and her heart breaks a little bit more. "And if going to New Orleans will make you happy, then I support you, because…" Deep breath, "that's what you do when you love someone."

Something in his face changes and he looks at her so delicately, like she's the most precious thing in the world. He drops his arm and steps confidently toward her, taking her face in his hands and-

Jess stares out her window and watches Nick shove his bags into the trunk of the cab below. She watches as he opens the back door, puts one foot inside, and then turns to look up at their loft, _at her._ She watches him shake his head, duck into the cab, and then he's gone.


	2. Chapter 2

If Jess thought listening to Nick _tell her_ he was going to move across the country with Reagan gave her heartache, it's nothing compared to the hurt she feels now that he actually _did._

It's only been one day, and she's completely broken. Scratch that- it hasn't even been a day. It's been twenty hours, and Jess knows that because she's been counting every minute since he left. She shouldn't have let him leave like that. She knows she'll regret it all summer, if not for the rest of her life. But, _why?_ She only realized she's still in love with him less than four days ago, but if she really thinks about it, she's known the whole time. She never stopped being in love with him; their breakup three years ago was the worst thing she's ever gone through, and she's been practically unconscious ever since. Losing him, made her lose herself. But again, _WHY?_ They dated for less than a year; she dated Dr. Sam for about that long if you count all the times they were together, hell, she was way more serious with Spencer than she was with Nick, so why did he do this to her? But again, she knows. They've had a special relationship from the day she moved into the loft. He was her best friend, her favorite roommate, her _boyfriend,_ and she lost all three in one stupid night. She never really thought about marrying Spencer, or anyone else, but she thought about marrying Nick. Hell, she didn't just think about it, she _wanted_ it. Bad. And now, thanks to stupid Sam, and a little bit thanks to stupid Cece, and a lot thanks to _stupid Nick,_ she's thinking about it again. She _wants_ it again: him, forever.

The sun is streaming through her windows this morning (still never closed those damn curtains), and Jess resigns herself to not getting any sleep after all, so she pushes herself out of bed with a grunt and heads into the kitchen to make some coffee. She's gonna need it in an IV if she's going to make it through the day.

She manages to make it to school for her first meeting with the teachers helping with summer camp, but she's running on autopilot and everyone can tell. After an hour, one of the art teachers takes pity and tells her to go home, he'll handle the rest of the agenda today and Jess can come back tomorrow when she's feeling better. She wants to fight back and say no, wants to be anywhere but back home, but her feet are shuffling toward her car before she realizes what's happening, and she has nowhere else to go. She drives past the bar and thinks about going in, getting blackout drunk and staying that way for the next three months, but instead just drives the couple of blocks back to the loft.

It's so quiet, and it's the last thing Jess needs right now. Nick had pushed the couch back into the living room before he left, and she collapses on it with a loud sigh. Pulling her phone from her purse, she contemplates calling her mom or Cece, but she can't interrupt her best friend's honeymoon and her mom will just cry at her about _another failed relationship,_ and she definitely can't deal with that right now.

The next morning, Jess is sitting on her bed, knitting the world's longest scarf. She actually looked up the record, and she thinks she can beat it if she just stays in her room all summer knitting. The sun is peeking through her windows again, like an older brother keeping watch over her; she's given up on closing the curtains now and she doesn't know why. She texted the teachers and cancelled today's meeting, asking them to meet tomorrow instead; tomorrow will be better.

In the early afternoon, the front door opens and Jess is on her feet in seconds. Her heart races, even though she knows it's not Nick, but honestly, with how alone she feels she'd be just as happy to see Remy walk through that door. She runs into the living room and there he is: that bird-shirted puzzle baby. "Winston!" she screams, launching herself at him and pulling him in for a bear hug. He laughs and wraps his arms around her shoulders. "Never leave me home alone again," she whimpers, rubbing her head into his chest.

"Jessica Damn Day," he says, pulling back to give her a mega-watt smile. Suddenly, her world is a thousand times brighter; having Winston home doesn't ease all her heartache, but it definitely helps. A lot. She can't wait for Schmidt and Cece to come home, too; to have their family as close to complete as it would be for the next three months. "Oh man, you should have come with me! That would've been _hilarious._ "

"So what happened? You have to tell me everything, I've been so bored here without you guys!"

"Aw girl, can't live without ol' Winnie the Bish, huh?"

"No, I absolutely cannot."

"Well, I haven't seen Aly in five days, and I'm meeting her for brunch at Artie's in about fifteen." Jess's heart throbs a little, because of course Winston will want to spend time with Aly rather than her. She can't blame him, but she is a little let down and wonders if there's any ice cream left in the freezer. "What's that sad look about? Come with me, Jess, I need both of my girls."

She beams at him. Running back to her bedroom, she shouts, "Be ready in five!" and hurries to get dressed. She's ready in three, thank you very much, the anticipation of hanging out with people other than her own thoughts put her in one of the best moods of her entire life. They walk to Artie's arm-in-arm, and Aly is waiting at a table with coffee when they get there. To Jess's relief, Aly doesn't seem bothered to see her, although she pulls Winston in for a long kiss before she even says "hello." Jess was a little worried about hanging out all afternoon with a couple of lovebirds, but those fears are washed away with just how happy she is for Winston; he's the best friend out of all of them, and she's so glad he finally found someone that makes him feel whole. She can't feel bitter or jealous when they're so damn happy together.

They enjoy their lunch together, and Winston puts cash on the table for all their meals before standing and wrapping his arms around Aly. "Well Jess, we're gonna go back to Aly's place and have sex. You're welcome to hang out in her living room though, she's got some weird stuff on DVR that you might like-"

"Winston," Aly groans, but Jess just laughs and waves them off.

"Go have fun, ya crazy kids!" she yells, and Winston tells her that he'll be back home for dinner because Aly couldn't get out of working the late shift. Jess walks home, her good mood dampening a little when she goes through the door and hears how quiet it is again, but then she remembers that Winston's home and gets to work putting together his favorite homemade casserole for dinner. She hardly ever gets to make her casseroles anymore, because Schmidt hates them; well, not just hers, he calls all casseroles "steaming piles of redneck slop" for reasons she can't understand, and Nick won't eat anything with spices in it that he can't pronounce.

After dinner, they relax on the couch and watch old 90s game show reruns, trying to answer the trivia questions before the contestants on screen. Furguson trots over and nuzzles in between them, and Jess screams in delight, almost sending them all flying to the floor.

"Damn girl, what the hell?"

"WINSTON. Have you even said hello to Furgy yet? You two must have missed each other like crazy!"

"Eh, not really. We texted every day while I was gone."

Her brow furrows before she even absorbs what he said. "Wait, you- What?"

"I bought him a burner before I left," he shrugs, not taking his eyes off the TV. His hand absentmindedly strokes Furguson's back, and it's quiet for a while before he realizes she's staring at them. "What?"

"Nothing," she smiles, and they all turn their attention back to _Wheel of Fortune._

Half of her wants to tell Winston about her feelings for Nick, but the other half is embarrassed that Cece even knows about it, so she keeps her mouth shut. Still, he unknowingly gives her advice when they're talking about Aly an hour later. Jess can't believe that they've hardly talked about his relationship, unless you count the four-page letter he wrote to her after High Jess mistakenly revealed that Aly was single, which somehow led to them getting together. The details are still a bit fuzzy there, so she was glad to receive that letter to clear up some of the details (even though it told her way more than she wanted to know). It's nice to have a real, uninterrupted conversation with Winston about the beginning of his relationship with Aly; Jess is still bitter she was away on jury duty when he realized his feelings for his partner.

"I think I remember you switched partners once though, right? Why did you do that, I thought you liked her then?"

"Yeah, that's why I had to, Jess. She was dating Tripp and I… couldn't handle being around her without being with her, you know?" Jess nods in reply, a sinking feeling settling into the bottom of her stomach. Oh yes, she _knows,_ more than he realizes.

"So what happened?"

"Well I lasted a couple of days before realizing that it didn't help at all. I still wanted to be with her, but then I _missed_ her too. And it sucked. I had to be brave enough to let her be in my life, whatever way she wanted that to be." She let his words pierce deep in her heart, and she knows that she needs that with Nick, too. She can't bear to give him up completely, he's too important; she thinks about every aspect of her life these days, every memory she's held onto over the last five years, and Nick is in every single one of them. "But you know, it all worked out in the end," Winston says, grabbing a handful of chips off of the coffee table and leans back into the couch. "What about you? Anything juicy I haven't heard about?"

With a tight smile, Jess says, "Nope!" and they both go back to watching mindless TV.

It's that night when Jess decides to take Winston's unintended advice. He goes to bed early, "Sorry Jess, jet lag. I'm falling asleep during the _Feud,_ and if I can't stay awake for Steve Harvey, there's no hope for anyone. See you in the morning," and she's lying on the couch in the dark, the street lamps outside the loft windows providing just enough light for her to see her phone sitting on the coffee table. Before she has a second to think twice, she grabs it and punches in Nick's number, taking a deep breath as she listens to the rings on the other end. He doesn't answer, and she's disappointed even though she expects it; she probably wouldn't answer either if he treated her the way she had done to him. She listens to the automated robot voicemail and waits for the beep, her mind running through what she wants to say to him.

"...Nick," she chokes out, and her voice sounds nothing like her own. It's timid and scratchy, and she realizes she's crying. She takes a deep breath and pushes through the tears, because she needs to sound clear, he needs to hear this; she just wishes she knew what was about to come out of her mouth.

"Nick," she repeats, and her voice sounds more normal this time, if a little shaky, so she continues. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for everything. I guess I was just… scared, to say goodbye to you. Because I'm gonna miss you, too. I already do, I miss you like crazy. And, I need you to know..." it hits her then: she just wants him to be happy. And he's happy, he's with Reagan and he's _so happy,_ and she can't tell him. "I'm proud of you, Nick, and I know you can do this. I have your back, no matter what. I'm so happy for you." Her voice cracks on the last word and she hangs up quickly as the sobs rip through her body. She cries herself to sleep that night too, and hopes it will be the last time.

The newlyweds come home a week later. Cece looks even more tan and beautiful than before, and Schmidt is still white as can be, but there's no ignoring the smile on his face. They stay up all night talking; Winston and Schmidt pass out on the couch snuggling together some time after midnight, and Cece takes a few pictures for future blackmail. She tells Jess everything about the honeymoon, and after Winston left it sounded perfect. Jess's heart feels ready to explode with happiness, or maybe envy, or sadness, she isn't sure; this is simultaneously the happiest she's ever been for her friends and the saddest she's ever been for herself, and she doesn't know how to process it. She tells Cece about her summer camp starting in two weeks, getting pedicures with Aly, and the new purse she found on sale at their favorite outlet mall. She decides not to tell Cece about the kiss because her friend is on a high and she doesn't want to bring it down, but somewhere around four AM she blurts it out and Cece's eyes go wide.

"WHAAAAAA-" Jess lunges across the couch to cover Cece's mouth before she wakes up the guys, but luckily they're so out of it they don't even flinch. Jess pulls back and sinks into the cushion timidly, wishing it would just swallow her whole, but before it has a chance to Cece's standing and pulling her by the arm into her bedroom. They collapse on her bed together, Jess staring at the ceiling and Cece staring at Jess, who takes a deep breath and covers her eyes with the back of her arm.

"Just say what you're gonna say, Ceec."

"Jess, I'm not judging you." Jess peeks out from under her arms and sees her friend looking down at her with sympathy. She closes her eyes again, sensing the bed shift as Cece lays down beside her, and feels her friend's manicured fingers wrap around her hand. "I'm here for you. I know how much this sucks." They don't talk anymore after that, just stare at the ceiling together until they fall asleep, with Jess finally feeling safe and warm in Cece's grasp.

The first time Jess talks to Nick since the voicemail is 42 days after he left for New Orleans. Schmidt's been keeping her updated on how Nick is doing; of course, they still text forty times a day. Apparently he's picked up a part-time day shift at a bar down the street from his hotel; Reagan works all day and he needed something to do. Jess understands that feeling; she usually loved her summers off but this year is hard. The summer camp out of her middle school is going well though, with Genevieve's full support but not her help (apparently her boss vacations to a nudist island every summer). That, along with picking up the odd new hobby every other week (she is currently learning the ins and outs of shuffleboard) keeps her days busy and her mind free from thinking of Nick. Well, sort of. She finds a small comfort in the fact that Nick is just as restless as she is this summer. Every time Schmidt gives her an update, Cece smothers her with that look of sadness and sympathy, and Jess appreciates the support, but also she just wants to strangle her.

There's a new cop who just joined Winston and Aly's precinct, and they tell her about him excitedly over brunch. She smiles and nods, keeping her focus on her french toast, but then Winston is pulling out his phone, saying something about a date, and before Jess can think of an excuse to say no, the guy texts back and all of a sudden she's going out tonight.

Cece helps her get ready, saying all the things she's supposed to, like "This will be good for you, Jess!" and "Aly showed me his Facebook, and he's soooo cute," and "It's healthy to move on, you need to get back out there," but the words don't help and Jess feels empty inside.

She comes home way too early and finds everyone sitting on the couch playing some dumb board game; she remembers that they planned a couples game night since she was going to be gone. They all turn and look at her apprehensively, before Aly breaks the ice and says, "So… how'd it go?"

"It was fine. Look, I appreciate you guys looking out for me, but I just don't want to date right now. Okay?"

Cece's giving her that look again as she walks to her bedroom, but actually manages to convince everyone that Jess isn't over _Sam,_ so Jess doesn't think about strangling her this time. Kicking off her shoes and falling onto her bed, Jess has two whole seconds to breathe on her own before there's a knock on her door and soon after Cece pokes her head in.

"How are you doing, babe? Wanna talk about it?"

Jess sits up on her bed to allow room for Cece, who steps inside and sits across from her.

"I don't know. It was a good date, he was really sweet and understanding considering I barely said a word to him. Seriously, he was great. I was _teeerrible._ " Cece laughs with her, but the mama bear look on her face never wavers. "I'm not ready, Cece. I know Nick is happy with someone else, and our time has passed, but… Love isn't something you just get over."

"You really love him?"

"Yeah, I really love him." There's nothing left to say, so Cece simply pulls her into a hug and rubs her back. "I'm fine, Ceec. I'll be okay tonight, you should go back out there."

"Why don't you come play with us? We have lots of wine and Schmidt bought a cheesecake, it'll be fun."

"No thanks. I've been fifth-wheeling your dates all month, I don't wanna bring down the mood with my pathetic love life."

"Not pathetic, and come on. I don't want you in here sulking alone all night."

"I'll be fine!" she says, a little too loudly. Cece quirks her eyebrows and Jess's confidence fades under her gaze. Jess takes a deep breath, sighing, and pulls her phone from her purse. "Look, some of the teachers from my old school invited me out for drinks tonight, I'll text Rose and see if they're still together. Okay?"

"Promise?"

"Yes! Now please, go back to your other half. By the way, I totally saw Winston pocketing cards when I came home."

"Oh HELL to the no, _WINSTON!_ "

Cece runs out the door and Jess smiles to herself before falling back into her pillows. She sighs and rolls over, glancing at the clock and toying with the idea of going out with Rose tonight or just staying at home. With determination, she forces herself out of bed and looks at her reflection in the mirror before pulling her shoes on and strutting out the door.

As she pulls open the heavy glass door and walks through, Jess is enveloped with the warm sense of familiarity. She swallows hard and heads straight for the bar, pulling up a stool and smiling at the bartender.

"Hey Big Bob." She didn't text Rose after all, instead feeling the need to go out by herself, and there is only one place she felt safe to do so.

"Hey, lady. Pink wine?"

She laughs, "I come here too much."

"Not for a while," he replied with a smile. He places the glass in front of her and nods, heading off to tend other customers across the room. It's true, this is the first time she has stepped foot into the Griffin in 43 days. The guys still come for after-work drinks once in awhile, and Cece still works every weekend, but to Jess this will always be Nick's place. It's where she has always seen him at ease, most in his element. It's where she expects him to be at the end of a long day, ready to make her laugh and pour her a drink. To be honest, she was scared to come back here, to feel him in every square inch of the place knowing he is thousands of miles away. But now that she's here, it feels like home. She slowly drinks her wine, her finger lazily running across the rim of the glass while she lets her thoughts wander.

"How's he doing?"

She shakes her head, surprised at the interruption. Swallowing a sip of wine, she gives Bob a soft smile. "He's good, I think. We haven't talked very much… He'll be back soon, anyway," she says, more to herself. "But you know, he's Nick. Stick him in any city with a bar and he'll be just fine."

"Yeah, you got that right," he responds with a chuckle, grabbing a towel and cleaning the wooden surface between them. "Still, it's weird not having him around."

The smile slowly fades from her lips and he walks away, wiping down the other side of the bar. "Yeah, it is."

Jess hangs around the bar for another hour or so, trying to make it convincing that she went out with friends to avoid any more questions from her roommates. The loft is dark when she gets home, but she hears water running in the bathroom so she knows someone is still awake. She slips into the kitchen and makes herself a cup of tea before heading into her room, changing into pajamas and sliding into bed. She tosses and turns, a replay of her night playing in her mind and keeping her from sleep. After an hour, she resigns herself to staying awake all night, _again,_ and rolls over to look at the moonlight streaming in through her window. It's just after one o'clock here, which means it's around three AM in New Orleans. She wonders what Nick is doing; he's probably just asleep. (She doesn't want to think about any other alternatives.) She knew from Schmidt that Reagan's company had gotten them a hotel suite in the city, is it loud there? Does it keep him awake or remind him of home? Their loft is on an off-street in LA, so while there's always noise at night, it's nothing compared to living right downtown. Jess had grown up in a suburb of Portland, her neighborhood was mostly old and quiet. It had taken her awhile to get used to the sounds of the city when she had moved to California, but she knew that Nick's home in Chicago was near the L-train that ran all night long, so he was used to sleeping through noise. Her thoughts are consumed with him, and she grabs her phone and dials his number without realizing. As she places the phone to her ear, she closes her eyes and takes a breath. She doesn't need to be nervous, in fact she should probably just hang up, there's no way he's awake at three in the morn-

Suddenly the ringing stops and she hears soft breathing on the other end. There's silence between them for an agonizing thirty seconds before, "Jess?"

"Nick," she breathes, relaxing into the sound of his voice. "Um, hi."

"Hi," he replied with a laugh.

It's quiet again before she realizes it's her turn to speak, but she can't think of anything other than "Hi," again.

"Hi." She feels his smirk through the phone and it snaps her awake, this awkwardness between them feels unnatural and it's enough to make her laugh. She's just laughing, now, and he probably thinks she's crazy.

"This is weird," she manages to say in between giggles, and he just laughs with her until neither of them has it in them anymore. A comfortable silence lays down across the phone line, and she smiles and tugs a pillow onto her lap.

"So what's been going on, Day?" he exhales happily, and she can feel how long it's been since they've talked run through every fiber of her being. "You still talk to the guys?"

Her brow furrows and she almost giggles again, before she realizes he's serious. "I mean, yeah? I live with them."

"Right," he laughs back, and she can picture him shaking his head and running a hand down his face. "I guess when I left, I just assumed you'd all drift apart and break off on your own, too. It's weird to think you're all hanging out without me. Please tell me you're all doing the same old boring stuff and I'm not missing anything."

"Yeah, it's pretty much the same around here, although it's never _boring._ I take offense to that," she smirks into the phone and relishes in his laughter. "Winston went through another prank phase last week."

"Oh no, what the hell did he do this time? Hide a raccoon in the shower?"

"No, thankfully this time he went on the small end of his pranking spectrum. He put a glass of water in my closet and I think Schmidt got a blade of grass under his windshield wiper."

"Classic Winnie," he sighs, and she relaxes into the pillows behind her.

"Yeah. But why are you asking me, don't you talk to them anymore?"

"We text, but I haven't actually _talked_ to anyone in a while. Well, not counting my three-hour phone call with Schmidt so he could recap his whole honeymoon for me. I mean, the _whooole_ honeymoon, Jess. I have so many details on things I did _not_ need details on."

"Ew. So you didn't call him at all _during_ the honeymoon? They were gone for two weeks, I'm surprised you guys could survive that long without talking."

"During his honeymoon? Hell no, I wanted to give them space!"

"Oh. Well I texted with Cece a lot. Like, a _lot._ "

"Wooow," he emphasized, teasing her. "Guess I'm a better friend than you, Day."

"Well I wouldn't get too high and mighty about it, Miller." They laugh together, and then he sighs, a natural silence falling between them again. This is the best mood she's been in for a long time, and she kind of hates that so much of her happiness depends on him. But when he laughs and says her name the way only he does, all those negative thoughts subside and she feels warm and comfortable.

"Hey Jess, I wanna thank ya."

"Me?" she sighs contentedly and closes her eyes. She could fall asleep talking with him forever. "For what?"

"For calling me a month ago."

Her eyes snap open and a pit forms deep in her stomach. "Oh, you- you got that?" She honestly wasn't sure he did, he never responded and that voicemail had almost been erased from her memory.

"Yeah, sorry I never called you back, I just…" he trails off. "Listen, if I tell you something, will you promise to not tell Reagan?"

"Sure, of course," she says nonchalantly, but she's dying to hear what he has to say; what secret he trusts _her_ with more than his own girlfriend.

"Well, when I got out here, I was not doin' too good." She suppresses an urge to correct his grammar and sits up on her bed, willing him to continue. "I've only ever lived two places in my entire life: Chicago, and then LA. New Orleans is way, way different. I couldn't recognize anything… It sounds stupid but it just felt like, I didn't fit in here. And it's weird to live somewhere without Schmidt! Winston too, and his damn cat, hell, even Cece. And... you, Jess. Especially you. I hated how we left things and it was kinda tearing me apart. I actually thought about buying a ticket and coming home, but then I got your message. I don't know, I guess knowing that you had my back and that you thought I could do this is what got me through it. You're my best friend, you know that?"

She swallows hard, willing the tears to subside and prays that her voice won't give her away. "Back at ya."

"I gotta say, it's really good talking to you, Jess. I've missed this. I miss you."

"I miss you too," she chokes down the sobs forming in her throat. "Um, I better go, I need to be at the school early tomorrow, so…"

"But," he protests, "it's Saturday. And it's… summer." Her heart is breaking at his small voice, and tears threaten to spill from her eyes but she won't let them.

"Yeah, I'm doing a summer camp thing for the kids who need a little extra help. It's called Banyon Camp-yon, I had t-shirts made." She's rambling. "But yeah, I should- I should go, Nick." She doesn't know why she's pushing him off the phone, but she feels like she needs to and he doesn't press her anymore.

"Oh, right, of course. Um…" He pauses, and she unconsciously bites her lip in apprehension. "Goodnight, Day."

The tears fall freely down her cheeks now, but she doesn't try to stop them. She misses him, gosh she misses him, but she needs to let go. "Goodnight, Miller."

The first time Jess kisses Nick since the stolen moment in the hallway is 298 days after he left for New Orleans. She hears him before she sees him, he's yelling at the poor delivery guy who was nice enough to hold the elevator for her earlier, and her breath catches in her throat only a little bit, but then he says "I gotta tell my best friend I'm in love with her," and she stops breathing altogether. All she can say is, "Hey Miller" as he pushes open the elevator doors to step in beside her. After a moment, those doors close out the rest of the world, and he's looking at her the way he used to, back when things were easy and they were just kids, and it's right then that she realizes he's never stopped looking at her like that, not really.

She takes a tentative step toward him, her fingers holding tightly to her notecards, and she wants to tell him everything, but he whispers, "Jess…" and she can't help herself. She crashes into him, her limbs wrapping around his strong frame and her lips automatically find his, like a magnet, and it's messy and intense and _perfect,_ and she's glad he's holding her up because if not, she might just be a puddle on the floor right now.

They break apart, his deep eyes lock with hers, and he says, _"I've been waiting for you."_ She feels her heart, which has been broken for so long, beat again for the first time in almost a year; her fingers lose their grip on the notecards and she doesn't care, because nothing she can say will be better than that anyway, and kisses him again. She doesn't know how they managed to find their way back together, but at the same time, she's not surprised at all. They've been waiting for each other.

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 **thanks for reading! i love you all** 💕✌️


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